What Have You Done?
by sakuyavalentine
Summary: One-shot. Ezio. Leonardo.


**What Have You Done?**

.

"Would you mind if I hurt you?  
Understand that I need to.  
Wish that I had other choices  
than to hurt the ones I love…"

- Within Temptation – _What Have You Done_

.

Ezio been trailing René d'Anjou since Antonio's men reported back three weeks ago with information that the Templar had been spotted boarding a ship in the Venetian harbour which was to return him to Romagna and inevitably, back to France. The retardation of information had cost him. It took him four days to arrange suitable transportation and another two to restock his apothecary supplies and weaponry and mend the damages in his robes and armour. On the day of his departure, once the thieves assured him the ship was docked and ready in the harbour, he bid Rosa a farewell in front of their quaint dwelling among the Venetian Thieves Guild.

Rosa tugged on his white hood, hiding her sorrow behind the devious grin she was so famous among her sticky-fingered brethren for. "Be careful, _amore mio._"

Despite the sadness tugging at his own heart, he laughed. "I will. I always am, aren't I?"

"You take too many risks," she lectured and drove her finger into the left side of abdomen. Though the muscles were tight, the wound Borgia inflicted upon him during their battle in the Sistine Chapel still pained him from time to time.

"Aye! Stop that!"

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Rosa chided. "Remember that the next time you do something foolish. I want my _husbando _to return alive."

"But of course." Ezio curled his gloved finger beneath her chin, wary not to put much tension on his forearm muscles. He had his hidden blade equipped; a premature application was the last thing in the world he wished. "Don't worry;someone must teach our _bambino _the way of the assassins."

Rosa's fingers dusted her prominent belly affectionately.

"And if we leave the task to you," he continued with a cat-like grin, "he'll grow to get arrows shot into his leg."

She pushed her lips together and poked his scars again, earning from him a deep grunt. As if sensing the discussion, the child within stretched his legs, delivering a swift kick that caused his mother's flesh to bulge through her shirt. She massaged the spot slowly until he relaxed and retracted his foot.

"Ezio!" called one of his men, waving from the opposite end of the alleyway. It was time to leave.

He looked upon Rosa regretfully, kissed her once more and hesitantly drew back. Rosa drew a sharp intake of breath, her heart beating rapidly and her back rippling with a sharp chill. As she watched him walk away, the entirety of her being swelled with fear and she, for a moment, thought of going after him.

However, though she would come to regret it, she did nothing. The life of the Assassins was his calling, his destiny. To deny him that was selfish and she feared his disappointment more than anything else. And yet…

"Ezio!" she shouted and he responded with a half-turn as he walked. She pressed her fingertips to her lips, then held them in his direction. "_Addio_!"

He returned the gesture before disappearing around a corner and vanishing amongst the Venetian crowds like a ghost.

.

It'd been a good long while since Ezio had last seen his dear friend; he knew he could not very well leave Venice – and perhaps Italy, depending on how much distance they covered once reaching Forli – without saying goodbye. So he made his way to the small studio and rapped his fist against the door in a succession of knocks that had become something of a password between the two men.

Leonardo himself opened the front door, his aging face splattered with colourful oil paints. In the years since moving to Venice, his hair had grown long and stringy in the back – while the front and top had begun to recede – with his beard and had begun to go white. However, there was still that sparkle of hunger in his eyes and the arrangement of unfinished projects, detailed sketches and mirror writing assured Ezio the artist had not lost his touch.

As Ezio wandered around the studio, pausing here and there to acknowledge one of his friend's sketches – he was especially interested in the one of the strange, eight-limbed man inside square and a circle – he explained the situation to him, including where he was going and whom he was after. After all their years together, and all the knowledge in the Codex Pages Ezio had given to Leonardo, he was almost an Assassin himself – save the killings.

"René d'Anjou is just a stepping stone," he concluded, rounding a table. He picked up a sketchbook, flipping through the pages until he found what looked like plans for a fresco. It was long rather than tall, with thirteen people sitting at a table. Around the image, Leonardo had made notes in his famous mirror writing, though Ezio had almost gotten the hang of reading it. "Is this to be a painting of Jesus?"

"Ah," Leonardo cleared his throat and Ezio wondered if he might have overstepped his boundaries in looking through the book. "Yes. It's just an idea for something in the future. I may never get around to it, unless someone asks me to. You know how it is. So many ideas, so little time."

Ezio laughed. "I think you are simply too perfect. Nothing is good enough."

"Ha-ha; that might be true." As he put down the book, da Vinci didn't seem to ease up at all. It left him a little unsettled, but he cast it off. "Anyway," asked Leonardo, "you were saying something about d'Anjou?"

"Yes. If we can get to him," Ezio explained, "it is only a matter of time before we follow the Templars back to France. Surely they have records of all of their members and once we find that, we can eliminate those _bastardi _for good."

"Ah. And you think you can really do it? Kill all the Templars?"

Ezio nodded with confidence and moved on to look at something else. "The Assassins have been around for just as long but we have triumphed more. Even the Church's aid has – "

Without warning, there was a sharp jolt in Ezio's back, between his shoulder blades. His throat filled and with a violent cough, he vomited blood onto the studio floor. His white robes quickly turned red and he looked down, confused. Where had all this blood come from? The colour drained from his face, replaced by bewilderment and fear. There, between the red and gold trim of his tunic, just below the buckle where his cape draped over his shoulder, something hard and pointed jutting from between his ribs. It appeared to be a chisel.

The chisel was pulled roughly from his body, sending him to his knees.

"Forgive me, Ezio. I had no other choice."

The assassin pushed his fingers into the bleeding hole, hoping to hold it closed long enough to get help. But he was losing blood quickly – if not out of this new outlet, than the one in his back – and found it difficult to breathe. Had his lung been punctured? He made a wheezing sound and had difficulty focusing on Leonardo – his friend – who now stood over him with the weapon in question.

"Why?" was all he could manage to gasp, though it was all he needed to.

"Because the man you are after, Ezio - René d'Anjou – is my mentor. That man taught me all he knows, about the Templars, about the Church. I am one of them, Ezio, just as you are one of the _Assassino_."

"We were friends."

Leonardo smiled sadly. "Are you aware of the old saying? 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?'"

He still didn't understand. What of all the years of helping him crack the mystery of the Codex? What of the men he'd allowed him to murder?!

"If a few small sacrifices were made for the greater good," the artist explained, reading his thoughts. "That is the price we must pay for the truth. Besides, the information in the Codex has been very useful to me, and to our cause."

"You..."

Leonardo shook his head. "The Chruch's lies have been fed for far too long to the people of this world. They believe a simple man to be the Son of God! Do you believe that, Ezio? A man, the child of the All Might God!" He in leaned in close and said quietly. "Did you know that the Church eliminated some gospels when the Bible was constructed? And that Jesus had been married to Mary Magdalene? Or so the disposed gospels say. I have not read them myself, but some of us Templars seek that. We do not care about the Apple of Eden, but of the Holy Grail!"

"The Holy Grail?"

"The womb of Mary Magdalene, which carried Christ's seed, bore his daughter, and passed on the royal bloodline. _That _truth is what I seek, Ezio, through the Templars, not the Apple of Eden and the power it wields. Control has been the cause of this so-called religion. I wish to spiritually and intellectually liberate men, not control them."

_Then why kill me?_ Ezio wondered.

"Take this as consolation in some small way for my betrayal. You will die because you are an obstacle that stands in the way of truth, Ezio. You are an Assassin, the perpetual enemy of the Templars. This will never change. It is out of duty, not malice, that I have slain you today." He sighed deeply. "And also know, I will not use your body. I have plenty of cadavers for my research. Your family will see you buried properly. I promise."

Immediately, with the knowledge of death hovering like the frightening spectre he was, Ezio thought of his family. Of Uncle Mario, now much older and grasping the ends of his own life, and his poor mother, who had never been the same after the executions that drove him to this point in his life. And what of Rosa? Their child? He prayed that Antonio would be gracious enough to care for them, as he had once cared for Rosa, with only love and honour in his heart.

His vision dimmed and blurred like a dying reflection in water's ripples. Blood was filling his lungs fast, and air was not. His heart, slowly lumbering along, pounded like drums in his ears. And then...

Leonardo da Vinci touched his fingers to his shoulders and forehead and reached down to close his old friend's eyes, hating that it had come to this, while knowing the moment the boy came to him with the first piece of Velum, that it would. "I always did treasure our friendship. _Requiescat en pace_, Ezio."

**.**

**Disclaimer: **None of the characters in this story belong to me, but Ubisoft and history.

**Notes: **I always wondered why Leonardo was a friend of Ezio – an assassin – while historically, it is believed Leonardo, if not was a Templar himself, was at least taught by them. I don't remember if Ezio ever admitted that he was assassinating Templars, but I think that after years of friendship, Ezio might let something slip. I'm sure a lot of people will hate me for this story.

I also decided to choose the route that Rosa becomes Desmond's grandmother ancestor like Maria since Christina apparently dies (according to Wikia sources; I haven't finished the novel yet, so I can't say for sure) and all the other women Ezio's been with were quickies. He actually appeared to care for Rosa. I'm sorry if you don't like it. But, it's my fan fic.

**Translation:  
**- _Amore mio _= My love  
- _Husbando = _Husband  
- _Bambino = _Little boy  
- _Addio _= Farewell  
- _Bastardi_ = Bastards  
- _Assassino_ = Assassin  
- _Requiescat en pace= _Rest in Peace


End file.
